"Yes," said the Idiot. "I felt rather sorry for him, and when he said good-bye I gave him a cigar and a five-dollar bill, and that was the end of him. I have since received a letter from him in which he said that my kindness was appreciated, and that I could leave my valuables out on the lawn all night hereafter with perfect impunity. 'There isn't a thief in our whole suburban gang would be mean enough to touch it after your kindness to me,' he wrote." "Extraordinary!" said Mr. Pedagog. "Very," said the Idiot. "Nevertheless, I have not taken his hint about leaving my silver out-of-doors, and have worked as hard as ever on my patent burglar-alarm." "Oh, indeed! Have you a new idea in that line?" asked the Schoolmaster. "Yes," said the Idiot. "It is wholly novel. It is designed to alarm the burglar, and not scare the people in the house. Did you ever hear of anything like that before?" "Never!" ejaculated Mr. Pedagog, with enthusiasm. "How is it to work?" "That," said the Idiot, "is what I am trying to find out. When I do I'll let you know, Doctor." XVI CONCLUSION MR. AND MRS. IDIOT REQUEST THE PLEASURE OF YOUR COMPANY AT DINNER ON THURSDAY EVENING, May 31, 1900 AT HALF-AFTER SEVEN O'CLOCK R.S.V.P. LAST CALL Handsomely engraved, a card bearing the above inscription was sent about the middle of May to all the Idiot's old friends of Mrs. Smithers-Pedagog's select home for gentlemen, and it is needless to say that they all accepted. "I wonder what the dickens he means by 'Last Call,'" said Mr. Brief to the Genial Old Gentleman who occasionally imbibed. "Sounds like the warning of the dining-car porter on a Pullman train." "I'm sure I can't imagine," said the other; "and what's more, I'm content to wait and find out. Of course you are going?" "I am, indeed," said Mr. Brief. "I'd travel farther than that for the pleasure of an hour with the dear old boy, and particularly now that he has so good a cook. Dined there lately?" "Yes," said the Genial Old Gentleman. "Had any of those mulled sardines he gives you Sunday nights?" "More than was good for me. Ain't they fine?" said the Genial Old Gentleman, smacking his lips ecstatically. "Immense!" said Mr. Brief. "A cook that can mull sardines like that is worth her weight in gold. Where do you suppose he got her?" "Why, he married her!" cried the Genial Old Gentleman, promptly. "Mrs. Idiot cooks those herself, on the chafing-dish. Didn't you know that?" "No," said Mr. Brief. "I happened in late Sunday night, and we had 'em. They were so awfully good I didn't do a thing but eat, and forgot to ask who cooked 'em." "It's the way of the world," sighed the Genial Old Gentleman. "We old bachelors have to get along on what comes to us, but the energetic chap who goes out into the world and marries the right sort of a woman--Jove, what a lucky chap he is!"